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Personal Note:

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Poem

When I was a girl we lived out back,
In the swamp lands where life was hard but no lack,
Of love and good humor and inventive fun.
We were tired but happy when day was done.

One evening my uncles were chasing me,
In a game of tag near a big oak tree.
I couldn't see the tree in the dark,
So I hit it full bore and there made my mark.

I was down for the count, out like a light.
They took me to Grandpa who seeing my plight,
Set to work right away to bring me around.
He reset my nose, made sure I was sound.

My face was a horror, a regular mask,
But with his tender care I was soon the same lass.
He made poultice, used herbs to take down the swelling,
Relieving my pain and discomfort quelling.

He was quiet and gentle and didn't say much,
But he knew a lot and he had the touch.
He doctored our family, he doctored our friends,
And many an animal he came to tend.

He was just an old Indian but I never forgot,
The things that he did proved he knew a lot.
He lived his life quiet, the best that he could,
And he did his best to live like he should.

He never stole, wasn't given to drink,
Said too much booze made it too hard to think.
Didn't hold much store in money or fame,
But he knew the importance of a good family name.

What others think, he said with a grin,
Depends much on you so try not to sin.
He taught by example and he taught us a lot,
And the things that he taught us I never forgot.

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